


a lunar eclipse at our fingertips

by noahfics



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Party, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Noah writes about first kisses.... Again, Sleepy Cuddles, Sue me I like happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8865745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahfics/pseuds/noahfics
Summary: “Nothing like mutant spiders to get some holiday cheer going,” Tadashi teases, slight smirk pulling at his lips.“Nothing like it,” Kei echos.""Tsukishima Kei's parents are throwing their annual holiday party, and he'll do anything to avoid it. Especially if that thing involves hiding away in his bedroom with his best friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello hey!! i hope you guys enjoy this lil early christmas fic. i know i usually write kuroken but i've been trying some new stuff lately, so any feedback is super welcome + appreciated  
> title from freckles and constellations by dodie clark.

Tsukishima Kei is sitting on a mountain of homework, metaphorically speaking. The weekend assignments have piled up, leaving him to wonder just why _every_ teacher seems to go extra heavy assigning work on the weekends, cutting into his precious free time.

There are no less than 1,000 things Tsukishima would rather do than homework. Most of them involve Tadashi, Kei comes to realize. The thought scares him a little, how attached he is to Tadashi, but he supposes that it’s normal, in any case.

Moment of unease aside, he’d much rather be doing most anything: practicing his volleyball (with Tadashi), watching movies (with Tadashi), going for a walk (unsurprisingly, with Tadashi), just to name a few. He’s not picky. There are tens, hundreds, _thousands_ of activities he would do sooner than his homework.

Attending his parent’s yearly Christmas party is not included in that list.

It’s not that he… Doesn’t want to spend time with his family, his mom and dad and Akiteru. It isn’t that. Kei has simply never found it in himself to have much excitement over the holiday season, unlike his family members. On top of that, the gathering is for his parent’s friends, and thus, he has nobody to socialize with. Not that he would want to, even if one of them were to have a child his age, but in _theory_.

“You’ve grown, Kei, haven’t you? You’re getting to be quite tall!” He doesn’t recognize the woman in front of him, though ‘overzealous’ seems to be an appropriate adjective to describe her.

“I’ve always been tall for my age,” Kei deadpans. The thought crosses his mind that he has to excuse himself before she decides to ruffle his hair or pinch his cheeks. Either of the two seem increasingly likely to happen, and he is decidedly _not_ in the mood to be preened by a stranger.

“I hear my mom,” he lies, stepping away. His mother is engaged in conversation with one of her coworkers, but it’s a passable fib, and Kei ducks into the kitchen before the unknown woman catches him in his lie. It’s not as far away from the commotion of the party as he’d like it to be, but it’ll have to do for now.

Tsukishima reaches into his pocket. His expression softens when he glances at the case; it was a birthday gift from Tadashi, white with the outline of a stegosaurus along the bottom. He likes it more than he cares to admit, truthfully.

He pushes that thought aside, composing a quick text.

**to: Tadashi**

‘If one more person tells me I’m getting tall I will leave.’

He frowns to himself, quickly deleting the sentence on the screen. He replaces it with: ‘Want to come over tonight?’

The reply is almost immediate: ‘can you meet me halfway?’

He thinks that of _course_ he’ll meet Tadashi halfway. One, it’s an escape from the party. Two, he knows Tadashi would return the favor.

Jacket buttoned closed across his torso, Tsukishima walks until the blurry figure in the distance becomes clear.

He’s never been so relieved to see his friend.

* * *

The two return to a party that’s livelier than it had been when Kei originally left. He suppresses an inward groan at the situation, though it feels more manageable now, somehow. A voice in the back of his head reminds him it’s probably—definitely—more manageable because Tadashi is alongside him. He doesn’t dwell on that.

“Kei..!” his mother beckons him over, crooking a finger towards her son.

Kei’s feet drag, but he can’t _not_ , so he makes his way over to the couch.

His mother, as it turns out, wants to acquaint him with a friend of hers. Tsukishima doesn’t catch the name, but he _does_ catch that said friend recounting how she used to know Kei and Akiteru as children, had babysat for their mother many moons ago.

It makes no difference to Tsukishima, who takes the first possible excuse to slip away, finding his best friend standing beside the staircase with a cup of hot cider in hand. No doubt, Akiteru helped Tadashi get situated. The drink in hand and absence of a jacket on his friend’s shoulders are an obvious clue-in.

“Seems like you’re having a magnificent time,” Tadashi teases, smirk hidden behind his mug.

“I’ve heard how tall I am—” Kei pauses as if to think, before finishing: “ninety six times.”

“That’s a pretty exact number, Tsukki.”

“I’ve been counting,” Kei says dryly.

Tadashi stifles a laugh behind his mug, letting his gaze wander towards the staircase, up towards Kei’s bedroom. It’s awfully convenient for Kei, who had been approximating some excuse for the two of them to abandon the party _before_ his mom turned on movies or brought out some game he didn’t want to play.

He takes the hint and starts up the stairs, Tadashi following closely behind. Tadashi definitely doesn’t mind being around the Tsukishima family and their guests, but he’d be a liar to claim he wouldn’t rather be alone with his best friend.

The wooden door closes, allotting the two boys a significantly quieter environment than the one they had been faced with downstairs. Relief is obvious on Kei’s face.

This room, Kei's childhood bedroom, has changed significantly over the years; glow in the dark stars adorn the ceiling (they’d been a birthday gift from Tadashi a few years ago), volleyball shoes and his bag sit beside his desk, and a purple knitted blanket, courtesy of Tadashi’s mother, rests at the foot of Kei’s bed.

Numerous dinosaur figurines adorn his shelves (his favorite, the stegosaurus, stands front and center), accompanied by textbooks, which are infinitely less interesting.

Tadashi is like another permanent fixture in his room. The younger boy has spent so many years at the Tsukishima house that Kei half wonders why they don’t have a bedroom specifically for him—it’s because he sleeps in Kei’s bed when he stays over, anyway, but for humor’s sake, Kei wonders.

Tadashi seems at home, settled against Kei’s headboard, knees pulled up to his chest.

“Your mom doesn’t mind us sneaking off like this, Tsukki?”

Kei shrugs. In all reality, it’s almost definite she _does_ mind. However, her older son’s return from college is enough of a distraction that she isn’t likely to notice her son and his guest’s mysterious disappearance.

“She doesn’t mind,” he lies.

Tadashi hums slightly, fingertips drumming against his knees. It’s a habit, a nervous one at that; he’s almost _always_ nervous, so he’s almost always drumming something: pencils, his fingers, whatever he can get his hands on.

“Yamaguchi.” Kei frowns.

Tadashi’s hands still.

Kei almost asks, “are you nervous?” but refrains, closing his mouth. Instead, he pulls his laptop so it’s facing towards them, screen illuminating their faces with its blueish tint.

“A movie,” he explains. “It’s about a giant spider that takes over New York City.” He says this in such a way that _only_ he is capable of, as if he’s explaining that he has homework or giving directions. He says this entirely straight faced.

“Nothing like mutant spiders to get some holiday cheer going,” Tadashi teases, slight smirk pulling at his lips.

“Nothing like it,” Kei echos.

They fall into silence.

The gigantic spider, not to Kei’s total surprise, is pretty mediocre. It doesn’t explain his pulse drumming against the confines of his chest, his wrists, doesn’t explain the slight sweat on his palms.

Tadashi either doesn’t notice this or doesn’t bring it up. Kei appreciates it either way. His friend’s eyes droop slightly as the spider ravages on screen, taking with it a number of citizens.

Kei sighs, perhaps a bit too loud, because Tadashi’s eyes flutter back open and he shifts to face Kei. They touch shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, hand to knee. Kei has a sneaking suspicion that those three contact points _may_ have something to do with his hammering pulse.

“Everything okay, Tsukki?” Tadashi asks, nose crinkling as he yawns.

“Hmm? Fine,” Kei says, averting his gaze.

Silence falls once more. On screen, the spider continues its relentless rampage through the streets of New York. Kei doesn’t follow, exactly, and since Tadashi has his phone out, _he_ is obviously not paying attention.

“Anything interesting?” Kei says, a quiet mumble. He really means “anything more interesting than this movie?” though there’s no reason to bother with the extra words.

“Yachi-san texted me...” Tadashi trails, continuing to type out a response, keyboard clicking away. It’s one of the few things Kei dislikes about his friend, that he’s insistent on keeping all of his phone’s sounds on. Every click, beep, and ding grate on Kei’s nerves.

He puts up with it for Tadashi, though; it’s a small annoyance, not too bothersome. Especially when he thinks about Shouyou and how _loud_ he is, or about Tetsurou and how prying and downright irritating he can be. Kei definitely lucked out in terms of his best friend.

“She’s asking about Ki—” Tadashi coughs. “About her crush. She _thinks_ that she likes her back, but she doesn’t know how to tell for sure.”

Kei frowns. “She should be straightforward with her.”

“Easier said than done,” Tadashi sighs. They both ignore the slight crack in his voice.

“It’s best to just tell the person.” Kei shrugs.

On screen, the spider’s massacre continues, long since forgotten. The sounds of horrified New Yorkers’ screams and of a spider barreling its way through central park don’t provide a relaxing environment, but the movie is all but ignored.

“That’s easy to say, Tsukki,” Tadashi continues. “But if you really liked somebody, maybe it’d be different. It’s not—” he cuts himself off with a sigh. A new text message has arrived, anyway; it’s the perfect distraction.

 _He’s right_ , Tadashi thinks. It’s best to rip the band-aid off. He’s sat here, in _Tsukishima’s bed_ , giving Yachi advice pertaining to her crush on Kiyoko, as if he’s not in the same boat.

Kei might call it pathetic, embarrassing to spend so much time thinking of what _might_ be a future with somebody, embarrassing to spend so much time hoping hoping _hoping_ that it’s reciprocated.

It’s best to be straightforward. It’s best to just tell the person. Kei said it himself, so it must be true. He wouldn’t say so if he didn’t truly believe it.

Tadashi has had several instances in life where he didn’t exactly feel like he had control of his own body. One was when he was nine years old and he’d ridden his bike down a hill, subsequently crashing at the bottom, toppling off, and fracturing his wrist, landing him in a purple cast for the following month and a half. He’s had several moments in life where he didn’t feel in control of his own _words_ , like when he’d come out to his mom, or when he’d found it in himself to call Tsukishima _stupid_ for insinuating that he’d been lame during their match against Shiratorizawa.

This was one of those times, though slightly different, he supposed. There was no adrenaline, really. Unlike when he’d come out to his mom, he wasn’t scared. He hadn’t had any time to prepare what he wanted to say beforehand, rather, just let it out, ripped off the band aid.

If Tsukishima wantes straightforward, even inadvertently, he’ll get that.

Tadashi closes his eyes, so tight he sees little white flecks against the black, and just speaks. No forethought, nothing thought of in advance, just impulse and just _needing_ Tsukishima to know and just… being tired of being untruthful.

“I like you, Tsukki.”

Relief washes over Tadashi, palpable. As crushed as he’d be if Kei didn’t reciprocate, at least he _knows._ At least Tadashi was truthful. At least he found the bravery within himself to swallow his pride and just _say it._

“You..”

“Like you, Tsukki. I like you a stupid amount. Your glasses and your smirk and the way you—”

“Yamaguchi.”

“Even if you don’t—”

“ _Yamaguchi_.”

“I’ll understand if you don’t—”

“Tadashi.” The mention of his given name is enough to stop the babbling, and when he finally opens his eyes, struggling to adjust to the brightness, Tsukishima runs a calloused thumb alongside Tadashi’s law.

Tadashi shudders, full body, involuntary, and lets his chin tilt up so he’s gazing at Tsukishima. Words escape them both.

Tadashi leans, and Tsukishima closes the distance. Despite the fact that, to the best of Tadashi’s knowledge, neither of them have had any fruit, Tsukishima tastes suspiciously of strawberries (it’s his chapstick, but Tadashi can hardly remember how to _breathe_ , let alone what chapstick Tsukishima wears).

Neither wants to break apart. Kei’s thumb rubs gently just at Tadashi’s jawline, and though Tadashi feels like they’ve been sucked into a vacuum, devoid of all air, it’s the best he’s felt in _years_ , no exaggeration.

They only break apart at a woman’s screech, and when Tadashi glances at the computer to see the spider tormenting her, tossing her body up into the air, all he can do is laugh.

“How romantic, Tsukki.”

“Nothing like some bad special effects to get you in the mood,” Tsukishima says, shaking his head.

They still touch at the knees, though Tadashi’s head rests on Kei’s shoulder, stray hairs brushing against the back of Kei’s neck. Tadashi is, very likely—definitely—the only person that Kei would even _consider_ allowing to sleep on him, The weight of the smaller boy against him is nice, though, and Kei definitely doesn’t even want to consider moving him.

The serenity is broken just a moment later by a knock on the door and Tsukishima’s mother’s impatient voice.

“Kei, I _told you_ not to sneak up to your room. Suzuki and his daughter are just leaving, so I want you to come downstairs and say goodbye.”

When Kei doesn’t reply, she tacks on a sharp, “I’m _waiting._ ”

With an apologetic glance, Kei stands from his bed and makes his way to the door, Tadashi following just behind him.

“Sorry,” he says, shrugging. “Tadashi and I were working on homework.”

As _if._ As if if homework includes mutant spiders and falling nearly asleep and—Kei’s still in disbelief on this one—kissing your best friend. These things, one more than the other, are vastly more interesting than homework.

However, he lets his mother believe that that’s all they were up to. Some things are best kept between Kei and Tadashi.

This night, however roughly it had started, is sitting just at the top of the list of such things.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are my lifeline <3 <3  
> come say hi on [tumblr!](www.kickthepjs.tumblr.com)


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